


Escape

by hamartia9167



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 07:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14732603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamartia9167/pseuds/hamartia9167
Summary: Driving Tyler away from the school at the end of the season 2 finale, Tony puts some things together.





	Escape

**Author's Note:**

> I felt so horrible for Tyler after that finale that I needed to write this. Tony is a sweetheart, as ever.

He’s driving, because when nothing else makes sense you can always count on the road. The road is solid and constant and does not say yes when it shouldn’t. _When are you gonna learn to say no to Clay Jensen?_ he wonders to himself, pointlessly.

“Tony, please,” was all Clay’d had to say, his eyes pleading and still red-rimmed from Lord Huron, “we can’t let him do this. We can’t let him become this. Please.”

And now Tyler fucking Down is in his car, all buzzcut and empty stare and barely contained rage, and there’s a backpack full of guns and ammo in his back seat. Tyler tries to talk, once, and Tony snaps “Shut up. Just let me think.” But the truth is he’s got nothing, no plan, no reason to think the cops aren’t already in pursuit. He tries to think of anything but metal around his wrists, anything but the jail cell from his nightmares, anything but the fact that this will be his third strike.

Tyler makes another sound and Tony grips the steering wheel harder than he needs to, and now the list of things he’s trying not to think about is getting too long, because if he really lets his mind go there – to what Tyler was trying to do this evening – he won’t be able to keep it together. If he lets himself think of Tyler shooting Caleb. Tyler shooting Sheri. Tyler shooting Clay.

His ears are ringing, just enough to be a danger sign, and he focuses on breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, making the exhale four beats longer than the inhale to expel as much carbon dioxide as possible, stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. And the anger doesn’t fade, but it stays at a level, it does not control him.

He becomes aware of a sound, then, a pained sound like an animal, and of the fact that Tyler is shaking.

“Hey. What’s happening?”

He glances back to make sure the guns are at a safe distance, conscious that this situation could still escalate. But Tyler has curled almost into a ball, leaning away from Tony into the door like he’s trying to disappear, or push himself out into the road, and Tony’s half-tempted to open the door and let him go until he sees the blood.

There’s a hollow weight settling in his chest now, and he pulls over on a deserted stretch of road. Looks over at Tyler and a bunch of things fall suddenly, sickeningly into place.

“Tyler…”

No reaction, but Tyler opens the passenger door, begins to climb out as if in slow motion.

“Wait. Wait,” Tony says, and rather than grabbing hold of Tyler he gets out of the car, runs around the dash to stand in front of him. “Wait a second.”

“Sorry.” So quiet a mumble he barely hears it, but Tyler says again, “Sorry. About–“ and gestures towards the upholstery of the car, the bloodstain beginning to dry.

“That’s not… You’re bleeding. A lot. We need to go to the hospital.”

He reaches out on instinct but Tyler flinches violently away from him, looking unsteady, and Tony holds up his hands and says “Okay. It’s okay. You’re okay.” He catches himself before telling Tyler to sit down, because jesus, that’s probably not helping. Probably reopened whatever wound is there, and now the ringing in his ears is back, his blood pumping at the hunted, shattered look on Tyler’s face.

“Someone did this to you?” he asks softly, conscious of not raising his voice. “Someone at school?” Tyler shudders, hunching even further into himself, and Tony says “you don’t have to tell me.”

“I can’t– I don’t know–”

Tony moves a little closer, careful, and waits.

“I don’t even know what the fucking word is for it,” Tyler says in a garbled whisper. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Did someone force you?” He hates himself, a little, for not being able to say it. Even now, after everything, he can’t bring himself to say _rape_.

“Come on, it’s not like anyone’s trying to have sex with me,” Tyler snaps like he’s trying for a joke, and laughs an awful kind of twisted laugh. “They used a fucking piece of wood. A mop.”

“Jesus.”

The pain of it. Unimaginable, except that Tony can in fact imagine it in some level of detail, just enough to make him sick. He had a whole speech building in his head, before all this, a real inspiring joint that began _what the fuck were you thinking_ and went on into all the reasons why _violence is never the answer_ , and _your anger is not a justification_ and _how selfish are you to think you get to take lives?_ He was going to give Tyler hell, he thought, but now all the words have died in his throat. He will never understand the impulse to load up an AK-47, will never understand looking at a crowd and seeing targets, and yet who is he to judge anyone for exploding when provoked?

“That’s– fucked,” he says, inelegantly. “Tyler, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that happened.”

That makes Tyler start to cry, and Tony understands this too, when kindness is the one thing you can’t bear. He keeps a distance, at first, but then lays a careful hand on Tyler’s shoulder and isn’t shaken off.

“If I’d been there, I would have stopped it,” he says, which seems redundant, but also somehow important. “A lot of people would have. There’s more good than bad in that school.”

Tyler scoffs, which, fair enough.

“Who was it?” He tries to ask this calmly, though he knows whatever the answer is it’s going to make him furious, the reality of a name. It’s going to make him want to do something his probation will not allow. But Tyler just shakes his head, choking back another sob and he’s not going to push this, not now. Focus on the immediate.

“We do need to get you to the hospital,” he repeats instead, gently. “It’s not gonna get better without stitches, probably.”

He’s ready for pushback on this, because neither one of them has much idea what Clay’s plan is or where the cops are right now, and going to the hospital is one step down from handing yourself in. But Tyler goes limp, the fight visibly draining out of him so fast that Tony is now half supporting him, and he holds on for a beat longer than he needs to, squeezing Tyler’s shoulder after getting him back into the car.

On the drive, Tony keeps trying to talk, saying things like “you’re going to get through this”, because Tyler is too silent beside him, like he's barely there. Like he’s already gone.


End file.
